Behind The Enemy's Lines
by Loli-the-dreamer
Summary: The world is being taken by the Second World War and Blaine is forced to lie, repressing his identity in order to survive. But until when he will be able to maintain is pretense? And for who he will be capable of risk everything, even his own safety?
1. Chapter 1

**Title**_**:**__**Behind The Enemy's Lines** _

**Rating (overall):** M

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine.

**Spoilers:** none , AU

**Warnings:** In future this fic will have mature content

**Notes:** My native language isn't English, so if you see some grammar mistake, please tell me, I have beta readers but sometimes they don't notice all the mistakes, so like I already said, fell free to warn me about it. This story during the Second World War, I did a search about it, but I am not a specialist about it, so I can make some mistakes, if notice some, fell free to correct me about them too.

**Summary:** The world is being taken by the Second World War and Blaine is forced to lie, repressing his identity d hiding his nationality in order to survive, but until when he will be able to maintain is pretense? And for who he will be capable of risk everything even his own safety?

**_A/N: _**_**Hi guys, :)**_

_**This is my new story and I really hope you guys like it.**__** I am really insecure about this story, because I never wrote anything that was even similar to this so you can understand how I am feeling… . **_

_**So _** if you think that I should continue can you please tell me? And if you hated or have any critic about it I am also open to hear you, so feel free to give me your opinion, just be gentle doing it. =P**_**_

_**And for the ones that read Don't Tell and are reading this now and thinking, "What? You said that you would update Don't Tell this week why you are beginning a new story before update Don't tell?" don't worry the chapter 11 of Don't Tell is already being edited. ;-)**_

**~Loli**

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><p><strong>Behind The Enemy's Lines - Chapter One<strong>

Blaine was sleeping deeply; his whole body was heavy and aching. His awkward position didn't help the pain in his back, yet Blaine didn't move to a more comfortable position, for he was too tired to even try that after another exhausting day of hard work in the field.

The room where he was sleeping was small, the walls were blackened and stained by moisture, and there weren't any frames or pictures that could make that place look like a home. Even his few clothes were hanging around the place without any organization. His new room was just a place where he was supposed to sleep before waking up to work hard in the field, and was quite different from the cozy atmosphere of his old room in London, where he used write songs and poetry.

In London, Blaine's room was neat and warm. The walls that his mom had painted were cream colored with blue and everything else was either marine blue or tobacco color. His clothes weren't hanging around the room; Blaine's mom would kill him if they were. He had a small closet full of shirts, suits, and bow ties.

But Blaine didn't remember that room anymore. Actually, he choose forget those cream colored walls and his old bow ties. It was easier if he did. In fact, forgetting everything about London and his old life made it easier for him to live his new life.

The brunette man didn't want to remember, but before Europe was taken by the darkness of the war once more, forcing his escape for the countryside, he was happy. In those days, before everything changed, he lived in Londonwith his family, always dreaming with music and art. He used to be communicative and funny, always jumping and singing like a small child. No one that knew him in those days would recognize him now.

In a contrast to the person that he used to be, a cheerful and happy young man, now everyone thought Blaine was an pathetic orphan that lived alone in small farm and wasn't good enough to enlist and defend England against the German's threat. Almost no one knew him or his secrets; Blaine didn't had friends or confidants. In that small village close to the farm where he lived now, there wasn't anyone, besides Mr. Montgomery, that knew that his real name actually was Biagio Andrenni, not Blaine Anderson, and that he actually was Italian.

Blaine didn't choose to lie, pretend, or even leave Italy, his father did. When the fascist ideology began to grow and gain followers in Italy, Blaine's dad, Antonio Andrenni, veteran of the First World War and philosophy professor, ran away from Italy. He hated the fascist ideas and defended freedom and democracy. This kind of beliefs weren't safe anymore in a country that was being taken by the fascist principles.

Running away from Italy, Antonio, his wife Dianna and his son, Biagio, went to London to live close to a friend's house. There, he found a job in cleaning the streets while his wife worked cleaning houses. Blaine still was a small child and didn't understand why his dad, who used to be loud and proud of his Italian nature, became quiet and discrete like the other Englishmen were. Antonio didn't sing Italian songs or cook Italian dishes anymore, and that annoyed little Blaine. He was a small child and didn't understand why he couldn't call his father "Papa" anymore. Daddy didn't seem right to the boy, but he got used to this with the time.

Blaine was too small to understand, but the tension between the countries and the people was growing. Everyone feared another war, for the First World War had ended just a few years ago and the scars were still everywhere inEurope. Mothers had lost their sons, wives had lost their husbands, and the financial crisis was devastating the European economy. It wasn't a good time to be a foreigner in Europe; jobs were scarce and people didn't like foreigners. Antonio knew which side Mussolini would chose if a war really began.

So one day, knowing all of this and fearing deportation, Antonio did more than forbid his son to call him Papa. Antonio changed his name to Andrew and his wife became Daisy and his son now was called Blaine. Form the day that his dad changed their names, "Andrew" and "Daisy" didn't talk about Italy anymore and always warned Blaine to the same.

Things began to change that day, but changing a name and repressing their identities were nothing compared to the changes that were about to happen.

Years later, when the Second World War officially exploded in Europe, all that Blaine knew began to disappear. Things that he loved were gone as his friends enlisted and rumors about bombings started to spread. Even his beloved city changed; London turned even more gray and dark. A lot of people, taken by the fear, started to build shelters, buy gas masks, and run away from there.

Seeing these changes and being of the age to enlist, like any healthy British young man in 1940, Blaine wanted to fight for England and for the King like his friends were doing. But against Blaine's will, his father forbade him to enlist; Antonio wouldn't to risk his family to deportation. Italy had joined the German side and become the enemy, and if people discovered that Blaine was actually Italian he would be arrested and his family deported, ruining everything his father had worked for.

Yet Blaine was naïve, didn't believe his dad's words, and underestimated people's paranoia, thinking that they wouldn't do that to his family, that everyone in the neighborhood knew how good the Andersons were. The young man thought that way until a cold night later in that same month, when their house was invaded by the police, whose heavy kicks broke down their door. The angry officers, sore that the new war was beginning and that this Italian family denounced as spies by Mussolini was the closest thing they had to an enemy at the moment, they took our their anger on the Andersons, who had been denounced by some envious neighbor who had depicted the family as Italian fascists planning to attack London.

Checking their documents and registers, it didn't take long for the police discover the truth of their origin. A few hours later, they were invading Blaine's house and arresting his dad and mom.

The hazel-eyed man only escaped with the help of his mom. He didn't want leave them, but Dianna cried and begged, convincing him to escape. He jumped from the window of his room and ran away with only the clothes on his back and a little money hidden in his socks. With a help of a friend and ex-choir roommate, Blaine took a train and went to the countryside to an old family friend's house.

In that small village, everyone knew Blaine's old family friend Ted Montgomery, a rich philosophy teacher known for his life full of eccentricities. No one was surprised when he gave a complete stranger like Blaine a piece of his land and said that the young boy was his nephew. Everybody knew that Mr. Montgomery was an only child and a little crazy, and just assumed that the young boy was his bastard son and didn't question Blaine's origins. Mr. Montgomery secretly helped Blaine, giving him new documents, this time trustful ones that wouldn't raise any suspicion. The old ginger man really felt sorry for Blaine, for he was friend of Antonio and could see how Blaine was closing himself off from the world after his parent's arrest.

As the time passed, a lot of people escaped to the countryside like Blaine, mostly woman and children running from the bombing that began in '41 that destroyed English cities. They were always concerned about the war. When one of those people saw young and healthy Blaine in the city leaving vegetables in the market, he was always asked why he wasn't fighting for his country. Blaine always quietly answered that he had a heart problem and couldn't join the army.

Trying to avoid the questioning and pitiful looks, Blaine, who always dreamed of doing music, began to work hard on the land, and forgot his music and avoided going to the village and seeing people other than Mr. Montgomery as much as possible. He was afraid that he would raise suspicion socializing; it was safer be the weird boy, for weird people couldn't be spies. Since he didn't have his family anymore, he could at least be safe for them and survive like he promised his mother moments before his escape.

His loneliness and guilt for lying and not staying with his parents led Blaine to often wake up feeling angry and depressed. When this happened, the young man worked even harder, working until his body couldn't take anymore, until exhaustion.

Today was one of those days. Blaine's body ached so badly that night and he couldn't even move to a more comfortable position. He had woken up feeling especially guilty, so he worked and worked until his fingers bled and his legs didn't have strength to move anymore. Remembering his dad's laugh, his mom's smile, and their family dinners, Blaine worked so hard so he could not dream about these happy memories, for it was too hurtful, wake up remembering his parents. That night he did not dream, and only darkness filled his found, remaining until it was abruptly replaced by the thunderous sound of an explosion.

"What the hell is happening?" Blaine screamed as he fell out of his bed and ran towards the commotion. The Germans couldn't be attacking the small village as that would be pointless because it was not a big city like London. As he crossed through the door into the night outside, Blaine saw fire and smoke coming from the field where he planted his vegetables.

He grabbed a knife and went see what was burning in his field. He walked through the trees, hiding himself and carefully approaching the source of the smoke. As the object came into view, Blaine was shocked; it was a huge German plane.

Blaine never had seen one of these, but the giant swastika painted on the wing of the plane made the machine's origin pretty clear. He looked at the large steel monster;

other than all the fire, he didn't see any signs of danger or anything that could cause the plane to collapse.

_ How the hell did this plane fall here?_

He couldn't see any other German or English planes, and there weren't any signs of a fight or of a German invasion either. What that was that plane doing there? Blaine was about to turn away and go back to his home to call Mr. Montgomery when something caught his attention.

Close to the plane but still safe from the flames by a small distance was a body. Blaine couldn't identify who it was and thought that it could have been one of the neighbors' children or some curious kid that was hurt. Blaine ran towards the plane; the ball of fire was becoming bigger and whoever was there was in danger. When he got close enough to the slim figure, though, he noticed that wasn't a child, or anyone from the neighborhood or even from England for that matter. His mind was going crazy with the realization:

_Shit, it's a German soldier! _

The young man covered with blood and ashes was wearing a uniform that only could belong to a German and Blaine knew that he should leave the man to avoid any complications, for he would probably die regardless from being too close to the rapidly spreading fire. Even if Blaine did save him, he was probably too hurt. Blaine just needed to leave the German there. The explanations he would need to give would be easier and his identity would remain safe.

_I will just leave him and call Mr. Montgomery he will know what to do._

He was already turning back to leave the enemy behind when he saw the German open his eyes and stopped cold. Blaine was entranced by the intense blue of the German's eyes, glowing through all the ashes and blood. For some reason he could not explain, his legs wouldn't move anymore; Blaine tried and tried, but his body didn't respond to his commands, as those eyes, those pure blue, angel-like eyes continued to stare at him. He was frozen.

Blaine knew he couldn't let that man die anymore. This stranger was a German, and he knew what people said about German soldiers: soulless, evil beings.

But Blaine wasn't seeing evil. He was seeing a soul of another human being through this man's eyes. This intense blue made it impossible for the Italian man to leave the injured German behind. He wrapped his arms around the German's waist and heaved his body from the fire.

_Shit, I am saving a German soldier!_

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><p><strong>So... should I continue? o.O<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**_**:**__**Behind The Enemy's Lines**_

**Rating (overall):** M

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine.

**Spoilers:** none , AU

**Warnings:** In future this fic will have mature content

**Notes:** My native language isn't English, so if you see some grammar mistake, please tell me, I have beta readers but sometimes they don't notice all the mistakes, so like I already said, fell free to warn me about it. This story during the Second World War, I did a search about it, but I am not a specialist about it, so I can make some mistakes, if notice some, fell free to correct me about them too.

**Summary:** The world is being taken by the Second World War and Blaine is forced to lie, repressing his identity d hiding his nationality in order to survive, but until when he will be able to maintain is pretense? And for who he will be capable of risk everything even his own safety?

**_A/N: Wow, this story really caused controversial didn't it?_**

**_I receive hate messages and not so hate, but still rude messages and wow, I knew that this story was polemic but I never thought that it would be that polemic._**

**_So I think that I have to explain things a little, no weren't all the Germans that supported the Nazism and most of them didn't know what was happening in the concentration camps, excluding of course, the SS members, that managed those horrible places. And another thing, the SS wasn't a ramification of the Germam army, _****_the SS _****_was a major paramilitary organization under Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party and most of the Germans soldiers also didn't know what was happening in the concentration camps, so please don't freak out reading the words "German soldier"..._**

**_And if you don't believe what I am talking you can watch The Third Reich a great documentary of History channel, or read the biography of Paul Joseph Goebbel, politician and Reich Minister of Propaganda in the Nazi Germany from 1933 to 1945, responsable for all the lies that poisoned the German people with hate. There is other movies like The _Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, The Young Lions, A Time to Love and a Time to Die that also show how people were foolled and how the goverment did untruthful advertising about the concentration camps and the ghettos.__**

**_And well I am just saying all this, because I don't intend stop this story and to explain that I am not a Nazi supporter, how I would be one writting about homosexuality? Anyway I am just trying to show how history is not only about black or white, villains and good guys, isd about people and in the past there were so much grey things and good people doing wrong things for belive in liar leaders as there is today._**

**_Goverments can be manipulative, and even in free countries, so why everyone always judge the German people so much? They lived in a dictatorship, they also would be dead if they talked against and they also were foolled. Were bad people in those times? Yes, just like there is bad people in all the sides, even in the side that we know as the good one._**

**_I am no stopping this story,_**

**_If I would stop write something just because it is controversial I wouldn't be a Muslim writting about homosexuality,_**

**~Loli**

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><p><strong>Behind The Enemy's Lines - Chapter two<strong>

Blaine was carrying the German soldier away from the fire when he noticed that the blue-eyed man was heavier that he seemed. Still, Blaine managed to take the pilot away from his plane before everything turned in another ball of fire.

Blaine still didn't understand what he was doing or why he was doing saving an enemy, but he just keep going. The hazel-eyed man thought that saving a German soldier was possibly the biggest mistake he had made, but somehow, even knowing that, even with every fiber of his being screaming for him leave the man behind, Blaine still couldn't do it; those piercing blue and barely opened eyes didn't allowed him to.

The young Italian man wasn't even close to the little trees that covered part of his property when, to his despair, he heard the sounds of cars approaching. In that moment, Blaine had a German plane burning in the middle of his field and a seriously wounded German soldier in his arms- what the hell he was supposed to do now?

"Fuck! Where I am going to hide you?" Blaine desperately screamed to the barely conscious man in his arms, who was clearly in no state to respond.  
>Blaine could easily picture what would be waiting for him if he was caught helping a German; there wasn't any lie that could prevent him from being arrested as a spy and a traitor. The worst part was that Mr. Montgomery would probably be arrested as well, making everything that his parents had sacrificed lost forever. All this because Blaine stupidly didn't leave that total stranger and a potential enemy behind.<p>

"Yeah, congratulations Blaine, you will end up getting yourself arrested for a German!" Blaine shouted angrily while trying to run as fast as he could and carry an unconscious and wounded man in his arms, which proved be a really difficult thing to do. He was also tired like after a long day of work on the field and an unsatisfactory amount of sleep.

When Blaine finally managed to get in the trees, he put down the man in his an arms, positioning him in the middle of some bushes in order to hide him from his neighbors.

"Look, I know that you probably don't understand what I am saying but can you please be quiet? I know that you probably don't have the ability to talk right now, but if by some weird miracle you are able to make any kind of noise, please don't do it, I'm begging you." Blaine implored of the wounded German as he covered him with leaves and branches. The German pilot had opened his blue eyes again at the sound of Blaine's voice, but he didn't nod or made any notion that he had understood what the hazel-eyed man had said. As darkness fell around them, Blaine left the unconscious man behind.

His anxiousness grew as Blaine heard his neighbors approaching and exclaiming their surprise of the huge plane in Blaine's field. As they entered his vision, Blaine prepared his best poker face.

Close to the monster of steal was Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Stuart and the old policeman Bob Smith. As they took in the same evidence that Blaine had moments ago, they were clearly shocked at what had taken place, confused that the plane had German origins.

"Blaine!" Mr. Montgomery screamed, approaching the young boy. Besides the ginger, there were the two other older men that turned toward Blaine the moment Mr. Montgomery called his name, making the boy even more anxious and uncomfortable with the situation.  
>Blaine looked down at his shirt and saw a spot of blood and rapidly covered the place with his left hand, assuming a weird stance in front of the older men facing him, but they didn't seem to notice.<p>

Bob Smith, a small man with grey hair, a big nose, and a large mustache above his small lips reached Blaine first, already rattling off a thousand questions. The older man never liked Blaine in the first place; he always thought that the cardiac problem the boy claimed to have was just an excuse that Blaine made to escape the war. To him, Blaine Anderson was just another coward lying to escape his duty while brave men like his son, Bob Smith, Jr., risked their lives on the battle field to protect their country and the king.

"So can you explain me what the hell happened here Anderson? How this German plane end up in your field? What did you see?" the short man screamed.

"I don't know Sir, I-I was at home and..." Blaine gasped nervously scared. He knew that the man in front of him wanted a reason to put him in jail, and right now there was a huge one, the German soldier, hidden in the trees behind them.

"You what Anderson? You weren't at home! That is bullshit! I saw you coming from those trees over there- you sleep in trees now Anderson?" The angry man shouted clenching his fists and arching his eyebrows, giving Blaine the most suspicious and furious glare that he had ever received.

"N-no I went there to…to" Blaine tried to say, but the man in front of him clenched his fists on his shirt and pulled him closer.

"You were what? Hiding? Like the coward that you are Anderson?" Bob grunted between his teeth, but a hand slowly loosened the man's grip.

"Calm down Bob, there is no need to talk to the boy like that, anyone here would hide if a plane fell in our backyard," Mr. Montgomery said to the grey haired man before giving a sympathetic look in Blaine's direction.

"You okay kid?" the ginger man asked, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Yes I'm fine, I just…I didn't..." The boy tried explain before lowering his eyes and falling into the silence again. He couldn't retaliate towards Bob's words; he felt like a coward anyway- after all, he abandoned his parents, didn't he?

"It's okay boy, Bob is just a little sore about the war and seeing a German plane left him a little disturbed- isn't that right, Bob?" Mr. Montgomery said, glaring in Bob's direction while waiting for an affirmative answer.

"Yeah Mr. Montgomery, having my boy fighting out there and seeing this huge German plane on the property of such an young and strong man like Anderson here made me a little sore," Bob's answered, not missing the chance to emphasize the words "fighting" "Young man" and 'Strong," subtly implying why he hated Blaine so much.  
>"Hey, are those shrubs over there moving?" Mr. Stuart asked, interrupting the heavy atmosphere that had formed between the men in front of him and pointing to the direction where Blaine had hid the German soldier.<p>

"What? Where?" Blaine squealed, praying to God for the old blond and tall man besides Mr. Montgomery to be pointing towards any direction that wasn't where he had hidden the German he had saved just moments ago.

"There! Close to the trees!" Mr. Stuart said, bringing the attention of the older men to the place that was the German's location.

"Must be some animal! You know all this fire…" Blaine alleged nervously.

"How the hell he is moving, he was freaking unconscious seconds ago!"

"But usually animals run from fire; what would an animal be doing there?" The blond and tall man asked, scratching the top of his head, messing up his blond hair like he used to do when something confused him.

"Well, the little animal is probably just running from the fire, or it's just the wind. Forget that poor creature over there! It isn't like there is a German soldier, right?" Mr. Montgomery joked before snorting a weird laugh.

The other two men followed his lead and laughed too; Ted Montgomery was the richest man around, so everyone always laughed when he laughed as sort of an unspoken rule around town. The ginger man was the employer of half of the village, after the other hand, Mr. Montgomery's joke made Blaine extremely uncomfortable because in those bushes there really was a German soldier. But since the other two man were laughing, Blaine had to force a laugh, one that sounded too heavy and was kind of painful coming out of his throat.

"Well I guess that there weren't any German attacks, so it is best to go back to our homes and call the army or something to warn them about what happened." Mr. Montgomery said, certain that wasn't any attack happening; it didn't make any sense why an attack would happen in a place like their village.

"Yeah but it is best that we alert them. You never know what the Germans are thinking. Those monsters are soulless, cruel, and worst or all, unpredictable," Bob grunted, crossing his arms across his chest and looking toward the plane whose the flames were slowly fading, revealing a twisted carcass made of steel.

"Well at least we don't have to worry about that German; he is reduced to ashes now!" The grey haired man grinned while his eyes sparkled with the feeling of revenge that filled his heart. Mr. Stuart gave Bob a pat on his shoulder, pulling the short, fat man away to leave Blaine's small farm.

Blaine sighed heavily when the two turned their back to him, almost kneeling right there to thank God for the fact that none of them had discovered the German hidden on his property.

Mr. Montgomery noticed Blaine's relief but didn't ask; the older man didn't have any idea of what was happening, but he knew that it would be better for him to not ask any questions. "Well Blaine, I have to go now," the ginger man said, placing his hands on Blaine's shoulders and squeezing them softly. "Don't get yourself in any trouble boy; you owe that to your parents." Mr. Montgomery whispered, looking straight into Blaine eyes and cracking a small smile.

Blaine gave him a guilty smile and nodded; he was now lying to the only person that knew the truth about him, that had protected him. Blaine couldn't help the feeling of remorse that was burning in his stomach.

"And the next time that Bob comes here, please don't wear a shirt with a spot of blood on it; he already doesn't like you very much, so don't give him more reasons to hate you," Mr. Montgomery murmured, winking at Blaine and pointing the spot that he had stopped to hide with his left hand when the other two men left. "OH I-I was… This is just a…"

"Don't even try Blaine! See you!" Mr. Montgomery said, interrupting the tentative explanation that Blaine had begun before turning his back to the hazel eyed man and leaving the piece of land.

Watching the men's cars disappear into the horizon, Blaine was frozen in the same spot where they had left him until now. He ran to the place where he had hidden the German soldier. When he got there, the strange man was in the same place that he was when Blaine left him, and was still covered in blood and had his eyes closed.

"Oh, now you don't move?" Blaine mused, rolling his eyes and kneeling close to the German.  
>The hazel eyed man began to take off all the stuff that he had put over the German's body to hide him, almost falling in surprise when he saw a spasm of the German's right leg.<p>

"Oh so was this the movement that they saw! Great timing man, really, your spasms back there almost made me have a heart attack." Blaine cried, pulling the man into his arms again. The German's body was trembling a little and his breathing was making a weird noise that made Blaine worried, but of course he wouldn't admit that, even under torture.  
>When Blaine finally managed to open the door of his small house and put the German inside, another problem emerged. Where he would lay the unconscious German?<br>Still holding the stranger, Blaine walked all over his house searching for a place to lay down the German in his arms. Already feeling his arms aching and not believing in what he was about to do, Blaine put the blued eyed man on his own bed, cursing himself for doing that.

"And now you are giving you bed to a stranger, a German stranger at that, a man you saved when you obviously shouldn't have that will probably put you in a lot of trouble. There goes everything you promised your mom, good work Blaine!" Blaine said bitterly, sitting on the edge of his bed and resting his face between the palms of his hands.

Still sitting on the bed, the hazel-eyed man raised his head a little and looked at the man lying on his side; he was covered in ashes and blood, and his blue and intense eyes weren't even open still couldn't understand what he was supposed to think, seeing the German in that state. Even though the man was putting Blaine in danger of losing everything that he had, Blaine still couldn't wish for his death. He knew that if that German died, Blaine could go back to his calm life and everything would be safe again, but even Blaine wasn't capable of wishing another man's death.

"Alright German, let's clean you up; if you are going to sleep on my bed, I think you need stop bleeding- that would be more hygienic, don't you think?" Blaine got up to find some water and some bandages in his first aid kit.

Coming back from the kitchen where his kit was, Blaine brought a large bowl of water and some towels, placing them on his nightstand before beginning to clean the German soldier. Blaine hesitantly opened the soldier's shirt, removing all the ash, dirt, and even some small sticks from him before seeing the bare chest of the German man.

Covering the pale man's chest were a bunch of little scars, some bruises, and a cut crossing his chest to his left shoulder; it was probably caused from some of the fragments from the plane that fluttered in his direction during the impact. Blaine carefully cleaned it, covering the wound with almost all the antiseptic.  
>He didn't take off the German's pants; he just ripped off the material that covered the wound on the man's right leg, which was even uglier that the wound on his chest. Blaine thought he should really try to cauterize it, but in the end, he didn't. Blaine didn't have any idea how to do it, and putting something burning on it didn't seem safe, so Blaine just cleaned the wound the best that he could, this time using alcohol since he had already had used almost all the bottle of antiseptic in the German's previous wound<p>

.  
>He examined the other bruises and small cuts that covered the German body and cleaned as many as possible, considering that Blaine wasn't exactly a doctor and also couldn't call one. He left the soldier's face to clean last since he didn't seem to have any serious injuries there besides some small bruises and a lot of ash and dirt.<p>

When Blaine finally finished, he couldn't contain his surprise that underneath all that dirt wasn't the German features that he had expected to find. Under the weird accessory of leather that the German used on his head wasn't any blond locks of hair like he expected from a German man, there were actually locks of soft, brown and chestnut hair. His face also wasn't like he thought that it would be; he didn't have the strong features that a soulless German man should have.

That man's face was so precisely built. He had the most beautiful eyelashes and a nose that was delicate and unusual at same time, while his cheekbones were well defined and his lips were colored with a slight shade of pink. Blaine would never admit it out loud, but that German pilot had redefined the image that the hazel man had of what an angel would look like.

Placing his aid kit in his lap, Blaine nervously looked away from the man lying on his bed; he didn't understood why he was staring at that German so much, but he knew that he should stop before he got a unwanted answer to that question.

"Well, I guess I should sleep now…" Blaine said, biting his lower lip and looking for a place to rest.

"I think that I will just sit in this chair and deal with the pain in my back tomorrow," Blaine murmured before he noticed what he was doing.

"Wait, I am really talking with you, an unconscious German pilot? Oh God, I am losing my mind," Blaine said, hopelessly chuckling at the unbelievable situation that he had gotten into.

"The first person that I have talked with in the last several months is a German whose plane fell on my vegetables…" Blaine said, looking to the stranger covered in bandages lying on his bed.

"At least I am talking with someone…that has to be good sign," the hazel eyed man thought before covering himself with some sheets and sleeping in a uncomfortable chair besides a strange German man.

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><p><strong><em>I didn't write in my AN, but thanks for the ones that gave me a chance, your story alerts and favorites really made me happy!_**

**_Badumtiss: _**_Thank you for you review, I will keep going I just hope you keep reading and liking, it would be mean a lot for me! So thank you so much for your support Badumtiss! You made me really happy! ;)_

**_MNHummel: _**_Yeah I think that this story will be to__uching, dark, sometimes scary and sometimes really angsty. I don't know, I never wrote something like this before, but I just needed write this so badly, I have the idea in my last vacation and wow! I just couldn't stop think about! __I want to show redemption and how two people can help each other to build new lives besides all the guilt of their past...So let's hope that I can do this before the haters send some hired killers to kill me! hehe ;P_

_Thank you for yoiur support MN, means a lot for me comming from you! :D_


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**_**:**__**Behind The Enemy's Lines** _

**Rating (overall):** M

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine.

**Spoilers:** none , AU

**Warnings:** In future this fic will have mature content

**Notes:** My native language isn't English, so if you see some grammar mistake, please tell me, I have beta readers but sometimes they don't notice all the mistakes, so like I already said, fell free to warn me about it. This story during the Second World War, I did a search about it, but I am not a specialist about it, so I can make some mistakes, if notice some, fell free to correct me about them too.

**Summary:** The world is being taken by the Second World War and Blaine is forced to lie, repressing his identity d hiding his nationality in order to survive, but until when he will be able to maintain is pretense? And for who he will be capable of risk everything even his own safety?

**_A/N: So Here is the chapter 3 of BEL, I hope you guys like it._**

**_This was a really hard chapter to get done, it is really long and required a lot of research to be made, so I would be really glad if you guys spend two minutes of your time telling_****_ me your opionion about the chapter and the plot. Please? ._**

**_Anyway thank you so much for all that gave me story alerts and for the lovely ones that review me as well. The answer for your reviews will be after the chapter ;)_**

** ~Loli**

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><p><strong>Behind The Enemy's Lines - Chapter 3<strong>

Once again Blaine was in his old bedroom; he could see the cream colored walls and his tobacco colored bed, but he couldn't understand why he was there and how.

Where was the German man he had saved? What had happened?

Before his got his answers, his bedroom door opened and his mom ran in his direction. He once more heard his father's screams downstairs.

This wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare.

"Please son, go!" begged the dream Diana, holding her son's shoulder just like Diana had in reality years ago. Reliving that hurtful memory, Blaine begged his body to wake up: "Wake up, wake up, wake up! Please wake up!"

"Son, pay attention to me! Blaine! Hear me! You have to run!" The woman in his dreams screamed.

"I can't. Not again; please do not make me leave you behind again!" Blaine shouted, shaking his head. He couldn't, he would never leave her, not again.

"I am begging you, go! Run! Please! Do it for me, for Papa!" The Italian woman cried, kneeling desperately in front of her son like she would have in real life.

Blaine shook his head in disagreement, but his legs were already involuntarily moving in the direction of the window. His dad screamed and claimed innocence downstairs while the policemen were climbing the stairs; soon they would be kicking his door down.

"Mamma," he murmured with his voice cracking. He couldn't leave her. He just couldn't.

"Please son, run and be safe, for me, for papa, promise me, son," Diana whispered while tears fell across her face, blurring her makeup. "Promise me!"

And then Blaine woke up.

His eyes were damp and he was panting: Why did his subconscious do these things to him? Why did he have to dream about it? Wasn't it enough to suffer from those memories during the day? Why did he now also have to dream about it? Blaine only wished that he could forget. He felt like a coward for wanting that, but he just wanted to be able to smile again. Was that too much to ask?

After some minutes of thinking about his vivid nightmare, Blaine decided that is was time to get up. He had a terrible pain in his back due to the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in the night before, but as he rubbed his eyes and adjusted his vision to the sunlight, he knew it was time to get up. At least he attempted to.

"I can't feel my leg," he said, almost falling onto his chair again without feeling his dormant leg. "Oh wait, ouch! Ouch! Oh, there you are," Blaine said seconds later as he jumped on one foot and felt the muscles of his leg beginning to twist with ache.

"Alright, let's slowly put you on the ground, okay?" The hazel eyed man talked with his own leg before standing on his two feet again. He still stretched himself and yawned for a few times before his brain started to work properly and he remembered.

He remembered the stranger occupying his bed and the reason why he had slept in an uncomfortable chair the night before.

The man looked to the pale figure on his bed and held his breath for a few seconds, panic encompassing him. The German man didn't seem to be breathing at all.

Blaine quickly sat on the edge of his bed and hesitantly placed his hand over the wounded man's chest, looking for a sign of life, a heartbeat, a breath, anything. He stayed in that position for several seconds, with his hand placed on the man's chest until he felt an inhalation.

He sighed with relief. The German was alive. He was breathing.

Blaine knew that he shouldn't feel so relieved by this, but since he had seen the man's eyes, something had awoken in Blaine, a part of him that he neither knew nor had any control over.

This part felt that the idea of never seeing those blue eyes open again was unbelievably painful.

"You scared me, German! Well, I guess I will have to look for some warmer blankets for you. You seem cold," the hazel eyed man whispered, feeling the other man's low temperature under his palm.

Blaine went to look for something that could warm the man on his bed. On his way, he passed by the German's torn clothes and something caught his attention. He stopped. There was something reflecting the sunlight there and it seemed to be something metallic; it could be a bullet, or even a rosary or a pendant.

Getting closer to the shining metal, Blaine saw that it was a small box-like pendant that had fallen close to the left pocket of the German's uniform shirt.

Blaine carefully took the small heart shaped object between his fingers, analyzing it. This reliquary seemed to be something too feminine for a man to carry, especially a German soldier; they were known to be serious and cold hearted people. Why would one of them carry something like that?

Opening it up, he saw a picture of two men, which made everything even more confusing. Why would someone have a picture of two men in one of those things? Reliquaries are made to carry pictures of couples or parents and no one could have two male parents. Besides, neither one of the men in those pictures even looked like the German, excluding the whole possibility of affiliation between him and any one of them. This whole situation left Blaine with a thousand questions running through his mind.

Another thing that puzzled Blaine were the unusual features of these men. Both of them had really dark and curly hair; one of them seemed to have his hair even curlier than the other. They also had a darker skin tone than the German, and their features weren't exactly "Germanic", which raised even more questions about their identity and the reason why that pilot was carrying their pictures.

Closing the slightly dirty, yet still delicate reliquary, Blaine noticed something he hadn't noticed before. In the back of the reliquary was a small inscription. The hazel eyed man didn't really manage to understand what was written there, but he identified some letters. Putting them together, Blaine formed what he thought could be a name.

"Rach?" he read aloud, unfamiliar with the word that he had formed. "Rach?""Raachh...Rach! Rachy?" Blaine exclaimed, testing out loud all the pronunciations he thought could be the right ones for that word. He tried a few more times, horribly imitating a German accent in one of his attempts before giving up and getting the blanket that he had promised to the strange man in his bedroom.

"Well, you seem better, German," Blaine said, placing the blanket over him and checking his temperature. "I think that this morning was just a scare, wasn't it?" he concluded with a small smile.

"You know what? I am kind of tired of calling you 'German', so I guess I will be calling you 'Rach' for now on. It is what is written on your weirdly girly reliquary, so that must be your name," Blaine decided, sitting on the bed and holding the heart shaped locket near the sunlight while trying again to decode what was written on it.

All day, he spent hours looking at that little thing, seeing every detail that he could and memorizing every piece of it.

What Blaine didn't see were two halves of an oval-shaped disc covered with ashes and dirt that had also fallen into the middle of the German's torn clothes. They were too dirty toreflect the sunlight like the reliquary, so they didn't catch Blaine's attention, making the hazel eyed man miss the dog tags notched with numbers and the initials 'K.H.'.

Dog tags that belonged to the pilot Kurt Hummel, a man born in Berlin in the year of 1920.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

In the year of 1920, the world wasn't kind receiving Kurt Hummel to life.

It was winter when he was born, and it was a winter so severe that the cold could freeze people in their sleep if they didn't use enough blankets. And it was in this stupidly cold winter that Kurt's mother, Helen Hummel, died giving birth to him and his father Burt Hummel, veteran of the first war, lost his capacity to smile.

Kurt didn't know why he never saw his dad smile.

Burt couldn't even look into his son's eyes. Those unbelievably pure blue eyes and his smile reminded Burt so much of his wife, and how twisted and horrible the world was.

For Burt, the world began to change from a good and hopeful place to the dark place in which they lived on the day he went to the war. Yes, Burt had come back alive from the war, "in one piece" like people used to say, but something inside him was different, and he didn't feel whole anymore. All those years buried in the trenches had changed Burt. He had become bitter and scared and the only thing that still made sense to him was Helen.

The beautiful and blue eyed woman was Burt's motive to wake up in the morning and face the memories of the war that haunted him. Helen always worked so hard to show him how wonderful the world could be, and was always kind and sincere.

For a while, she convinced him, and Burt began to live again. They got married and Burt was full of hope. Helen was pregnant. He and his wife had given life to someone, to a human being. "How bad could the world be when someone can give life to another person?" he thought in those times, believing in a better life, but then Burt changed his mind again. The world once more revealed itself to Burt Hummel as a bad place in a cold winter's night, taking his wife away from him.

Helen left behind this little piece of light, this little piece of her, and it seemed so unfair. Burt was sure that his son would probably be destroyed and damaged by the world too, just like he was, like Helen was, because for Burt nothing good could last in this world where Helen didn't exist anymore.

And Burt wasn't the only one feeling that way, so devastated and lost. All over Germany, there were people also suffering from the consequences of the first war.

None of them had chosen to fight that war, but everyone paid the price of it. Before the war, they had jobs and families, Germany was growing, and they had an amazing future ahead of them. But then the war came, and the government, too blinded with their imperialist ambitions, started a conflict that only brought damage and suffering for the German people.

After the war, most of the Germans had lost someone they loved, a husband, a father, a brother or a son, and a financial crisis left most of them in misery. They were feeling humiliated, angry and unsupported.

And in the middle of all this misery, without a mom and being raised by a father that didn't smile, Kurt Hummel learned what life was.

Life wasn't about happiness or fun; that was for the lucky people. Life was about loss. Burt taught Kurt that, and Kurt didn't know another way of living.

He never had many toys, only one or two, leaving him so fascinated by his new neighbors and toy makers. When Kurt went to their house, he saw that there was another way to see life. From that moment on, going to his neighbors' house and spending time with Rachel Berry, his neighbors' five-year-old niece, was the only thing that made him happy.

Rachel Berry was a cheerful Jewish girl; she had beautiful brown hair and pretty brown eyes. The young girl spent her time smiling and singing, dreaming about being a huge star and making movies. Since he had met her, nothing, not even cake and candies, made Kurt happier than playing at her house in the afternoons after school.

They played, sang and ran around the entire place holding the funny stars that Rachel's uncles had hung on their walls. Rachel always said that those were called the Star of David. Kurt laughed, because they didn't belong to any David he knew. They belonged to Rachel's uncles and he didn't understand why she insisted on saying that they belonged to this David. They would always be Rachel's stars if you asked him.

The two kids didn't understand why some people said that they didn't belong to the same world. For Kurt, Rachel was the best part of his world. How could she not belong to his world? Her house was full of funny things and there he could smile and play with grownups. Rachel's uncles, that she for some reason secretly called daddies, were fun; they laughed and played and they weren't like Burt, who was always quiet.

And at the end of the day, when Kurt was forced to go back to his home, the young boy couldn't avoid this annoying feeling that grew in his chest. He envied Rachel. She had everything, funny parents and a big house. He didn't have anything, and lived in a small house with a sad dad who never played or sang. Kurt couldn't avoid these feelings, but he always forced those dark thoughts to disappear from his mind. And they did.

At least until Kurt began to be poisoned by the world like his dad had always said he would be.

As Kurt grew up, things began to get darker. Burt got sick and the economic situation wasn't getting any better. Kurt had to start working to buy his dad's medicine. He took every kind of job he could. He worked for endless hours in the few fabric mills that still existed in Germany, followed by even more hours of cleaning the streets and chimneys. In those times, he would have done anything for money just to keep his dad alive.

But even though he did everything he could, things kept getting worse and worse. It began to be too painful for Kurt to see Rachel again. It just hurt too much to hear her talk about going to an art school when he didn't even have the time to sing anymore. She was turning into a beautiful and gracious woman, while he was turning into the weird and dirty boy that cleaned chimneys.

Another thing that hurt his feelings, even if he never admitted it, was seeing her happiness dating Finn Hudson.

Finn was this handsome and tall guy, and he caused all sorts of weird feelings in Kurt; envy for being so strong and manly while Kurt still was small and girly, embarrassment for all the unmentionable and sinful thoughts that filled Kurt's mind when Finn was around, and shame for being poor. Everything about Finn Hudson just felt so wrong and dirty, and Kurt couldn't deal with what he felt being close to Finn and hearing Rachel talk about him.

So he grew apart from Rachel, but even in his bitterness, he knew she wasn't lonely without him. She had all these new friends, like Puck, a strong, Jewish guy with a weird haircut who liked to bully Kurt every time he saw the blue eyed boy walking on the street. There was Sugar Motta and Harmony too, two girls that looked just like Rachel in some aspects and were ambitious like her, but none of them was as talented as Rachel.

As the time passed and Rachel was surrounded by new friends, Kurt became more and more lonely. And like Burt had predicted, it didn't take too much living for Kurt to lose his shine. The blue eyed man just broke; he gave up on happiness and let himself be surrounded by sadness as his dad was.

And unfortunately, Burt died with that image of his son as pneumonia took his life regardless of his son's efforts to keep him alive.

After his father's death, Kurt left the hospital and walked adrift for hours. He walked and walked while tears fell from his eyes; now he had lost everything that life had been worth living for; his mom, his dad who didn't smile, and he would probably lose his house and be sent to the orphanage. What had he done to deserve that? Why couldn't he be like Rachel, special, loved?

Still walking, Kurt saw a commotion.

There were a lot of people together and the look in their eyes was the look of seeing a hero, a savior. In front of that crowd, a man wearing a dark green uniform was speaking; behind him was a giant swastika.

Kurt stopped and listened.

While the man talked, time seemed to freeze. Everything that man said was exactly what those people were feeling, what Kurt was feeling. All the darkness locked in the blue eyed man's chest as in the chest of everyone there was suddenly given a voice by that man. He talked about the German humiliation in the war, about the shattered men that had come back home and the misery that they lived in now. Hearing that speech and the promises of change that man made was everything Kurt needed, everything that everyone there needed.

When the man ended his speech, the gathering of people couldn't do anything besides applaud. None of them realized that they were all being manipulated and fooled. They had so much resentment and suffering inside of them and so little perspective about the future that the promises made by that man seemed to be the best chance they had to end all that misery.

Kurt was sent to the orphanage. He wasn't totally unhappy there. Germany was changing and he was a part of that change, or at least that was what the people who took care of him said.

The teachers and the nurses always told him how he was special being part of the new German nation, and for the first time in his life, Kurt Hummel believed it.

People began to talk that he represented a superior kind, and for the first time in his life, Kurt didn't feel bad about himself.

He wasn't the miserable and weird boy anymore; he was an important part of something so much bigger.

It wasn't too long before Kurt began to dream about joining the army, as his father had once done, but this time to avenge Burt, to make the enemies pay for the shattered man they had left behind with Kurt. At least that was what Kurt was told. He was told that the enemies were responsible for his lonely childhood, and if they hadn't destroyed his dad, Kurt would have had a dad who would have smiled for him.

The party of men speaking in the street that cold night became more powerful when Hitler ascended to power, and the changes grew even more.

The misinformation about Jewish people and foreigners grew as well, and became more twisted and perverse each time it was passed on. Lies were spoken one time, two times, three times, a hundred times.

It was just as Joseph Goebbels, a Nazi party member, had said: A lie told thousands of times becomes a truth.

When the Jews were forced to go to ghettos, Kurt secretly became worried. "What will happen to Rachel?" he thought, but then he saw a couple of short movies produced by the government in the movie theater that calmed his worries. The ghettos showed in those movies seemed like nice places. "She is just with her kind, everything is okay," Kurt thought, ignoring the bad feeling burning in his chest.

When he was old enough, Kurt finally joined the army as he had dreamed of doing. He began special training, because he didn't want to be a simple soldier; he wanted to be a pilot, flying in the sky and following orders, like he had seen in the government movies.

And as Kurt trained, he became great, the best in his regiment, as a matter of fact.

Germany was growing too; the economy was getting better with the development of the military industry. People were working again, but they were being fooled by the misinformation that supported their patriotism and made them think that everything was okay, because the people were happy when the nation and the government was happy.

And the nation was very happy with Kurt. He was close to becoming a pilot due to his efforts and the support of his superiors. Nothing could ruin this new life, and the happiness that he had created.

At least that was what he thought.

A few days before his first mission, Kurt's superior asked for his help. He was going to visit a brother that belonged to the SS, the armed wing of the Nazi party, and he needed someone to talk to on the road and prevent him from falling asleep while he was driving. Kurt didn't want to go at first, but the man was his superior and he was so close to actually going on a mission. He didn't want to risk everything by saying no.

His superior said to Kurt that they were going to a concentration camp.

Kurt had heard about those places. The government had put the Jews there to prevent betrayal. He had also seen the movies about those places, so he wasn't afraid to go.

Because just like the movies that Kurt had seen about the ghettos, the short movies about the concentration camps made them look nice, almost like vacation camps.

So Kurt went with his captain. They travelled a long way before they got there.

When they arrived, Kurt at first didn't believe it, because what he was seeing didn't look anything like it looked in the movies.

This wasn't a vacation camp. This was anything but that.

The camp was separated from the road by a couple of sharp barbed-wire fences, looking particularly sinister, like the ones put up outside any military or semi-military establishment that Kurt had seen.

Naturally, Kurt began to look for the things that he had seen in the movies, but didn't find any. The place was large, like a whole town of barracks painted in disgusting green. There were many people arriving there - soldiers and civilians, too many people.

How would all of them fit into that place?

Kurt couldn't believe what he saw next behind the huge barracks of concrete and the endless lines of people coming in.

Amidst all that mud, there were skeletal figures. Kurt couldn't even identify if they were men or women - they were so skinny, pale and lifeless.

Kurt brought his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes.

He was dreaming. That was the only explanation for what he was seeing, none of it could be real. They had told him how these places were like and this wasn't how they were supposed to be. Any minute, he would open his eyes and wake up, he had to, because this couldn't be the place they had told him about.

Where were the well-built leisure areas that he had seen in the movies? And the refectories? The playground? Where was everything?

This place didn't have anything besides concrete and suffering.

Kurt felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, for when he opened his eyes, everything was still there, all the horror, the suffering, and the concrete. All that he had believed in, all that they had made him believe, were lies.

How could they lie to him like that?

The cost of development of his society was too high; those skeletal figures with striped clothes were people, humans. How could anyone have the power to do that to them? How could Kurt serve a system that did that?

Kurt made an excuse and ran away from his superior. He wanted to leave this place and go back in time to the point where he had just felt safe and happy. He wanted to go back to his neighbors' house and play with the funny stars on the wall.

He supported his weight on a wall and fell on his knees. Kurt then proceeded to vomit everything that he had in his stomach. He was a mess. Luckily, he was in a place where only a single SS member saw him.

"Are you okay, son?" the man asked, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt jerked as if the hand of the soldier burned his skin through his uniform. The man's kindness was disgusting: How could he be kind to Kurt while being a monster to these people?

Kurt curled away from the man and bumped into something. He fell, thinking he had bumped into a tree or a bush, but then he felt cold skin under his hands. It wasn't a small tree or a bush: The blue eyed man had fallen over a person, a fragile and skinny body of a man.

"K-Kurt?" a broken voice murmured. The voice belonged to the man under him; his hair was shaved and his appearance was reduced to that of skin and bones while his pale skin was covered with purple bruises.

"P-puck?" He gasped, desperately recognizing the man below him. He couldn't believe his eyes; that man couldn't be Puck, not the strong and healthy Puck that he knew. The man under him had lifeless eyes and seemed like he could die any moment.

The SS member took the man away from him, cursing Puck while Kurt stayed still, paralyzed on the ground with his eyes wide open and his breathing coming out in pants, too shocked to move.

"R-Rachel," he kept murmuring to himself. What had happened to her? His Rachel couldn't be like the lifeless ghost that Puck had become. Kurt was shaking his head with the thought of his best friend. She couldn't be in that state. Rachel still had to be the funny girl of his memories, the girl that would never cut her hair short, even if it was only a little bit shorter.

Kurt looked around him and in every feminine figure he could see, he saw Rachel. He could in fact have seen her, but he wouldn't know, because suddenly everyone there was Rachel, lifeless Rachel, skeletal Rachel.

Kurt felt guilty, disgusting, like he would vomit again if he still had something in his stomach. He tried to get up, but fell down again in the same place where Puck had fallen before.

And under his hand Kurt felt something metallic, heart shaped.

When he looked at the metal under his palms, he recognized it in a second. It was Rachel's reliquary; he could see the inscriptions of love that her daddies had made for her.

Puck had Rachel's reliquary.

This could mean only one thing: Rachel was dead.

Rachel would never give someone that reliquary, not even under torture, and if Puck was carrying it, it meant that she wasn't there anymore to protect her most important treasure.

An unbelievable pain took over Kurt's body with that realization. The guilt ran through his veins like a toxin, killing every other thought little by little, every happy memory that Kurt still had. He felt like he had sold his soul in the night of his dad's death and now the devil was making him pay the price, because this world had to be hell.

When Kurt saw his captain again several minutes later, he was still sitting on the ground in front of the reliquary with his palms covering his face. The old German thought that he was feeling sick and told him to go back to the car.

Kurt picked up the little heart shaped accessory and numbly began to walk towards the car. The metallic ornament in his hand seemed to burn Kurt's skin. As he walked, Kurt held it even more tightly. The reliquary made him feel more and more of that guilt burning his senses. He put it in his left pocket, feeling the burn right above his heart.

Kurt didn't help his captain on the way back to the base. He didn't speak a word, barely nodding when the older man asked him something, and he stayed that way for the days that followed.

Everyone in the boot camp thought that Kurt was just anxious about his first mission when he suddenly stopped eating properly and began to act strangely, always staring at this strange metallic accessory before going to sleep.

His posture also changed; it was like he had begun to carry a huge weight on his shoulders. The reliquary in his left pocket felt heavier and heavier as time passed and his guilt grew. Kurt didn't do anything in his free time besides feeling the heaviness of his childhood memories in his chest.

When the day of his first mission arrived and he climbed on his plane, Kurt just wanted to fly away from that place, from the lies and the guilt.

When his regiment was flying into the English airspace, Kurt suddenly changed his course. His comrades were shocked, but they had a mission and couldn't lose time going after a pilot that probably had become scared and was going back to the base where he would be punished.

No one thought that Kurt wouldn't go back to the base.

Kurt flew and flew until his fuel began to run out and a red light began to shine on his panel. Kurt didn't see the red light, though. His head was full of the horror that he had seen and his chest was too heavy with the burden of his guilt. He just hoped that some enemy plane noticed his lonely German plane and shot him down, ending all the suffering that had been his life since the day he was born.

When Kurt saw an open field under him, he knew that he could land if he wanted to, but the thought of seeing Rachel dead in a ditch in that concentration camp made him realize that even if he could land properly, he probably wouldn't. He would die, just like her, just like he deserved.

He held tightly to the tissue in his left pocket, which was wrapped around Rachel's reliquary, and let go of the control.

And for those final seconds, just in that fraction of time before the plane crashed on the ground, there wasn't Rachel's death on Kurt's mind anymore, just memories of the Rachel who always laughed, holding her Star of David above her head, playing and singing and dreaming of fairy tales.

He felt no pain, no guilt or suffering, only good memories. For the first time since he found the reliquary, there wasn't any burning or heaviness in Kurt's chest. It was just him and death, coming to bring him home to his friend.

Or maybe not.

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><p><em><strong>Thank you all for read until here, virtual cookies for you guys! ;)<strong>_

_**And answering the lovely ones that review me:**_

_**MN:** Don't worry, there is no one hating me anymore, I think that my last A/N worked. __I really hope you like this chapter! It is a little angs**t so I also hope not hurt your heart.. .**_

_**Cpimentel983:** Thank you for you support! I hope you keep following my story! And dont worry I am a happy endings girl! ;)_


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